1918. Elian wakes at 4 AM to bake bread in a small-town bakery. His brother Thomas is gone. The dreamer, the singer, the one who was supposed to come home. All that remains is an iron key hanging above the oven, a promise that will never be kept. Yet Elian keeps baking. Keeps feeding the strangers who wander in. Keeps humming the four-note melody Thomas taught him in a summer meadow, years before the war took everything. 1918. Henry is a soldier who has forgotten how to feel. A deserter walking through fog, he follows a melody to a bakery door. A stranger offers him bread, still warm, impossibly kind, and something cracks open. He survives. He plants an acorn in a place he will never return to. He doesn't know he is building a cathedral. 2167. Clara lives in the City of Glass, where efficiency has replaced connection and no one touches anything real. When she discovers an impossible tree growing through the steel and stone, and an iron key tangled in its roots, she begins to trace a thread that leads back through centuries, through strangers, through small acts of love no one thought to record. The Hum is a novel about the things that endure: the bread you bake for someone you'll never meet, the tree you plant knowing you won't see it grow, the kindness you offer without expecting it to return. It is about the invisible architecture we build with every choice to stay, to give, to hold the door one moment longer. Featuring original pencil sketch illustrations that bring each era to life, this is a book for anyone who has ever wondered: Does it matter? The small things I do, do they go anywhere? They do. Farther than you know. "The Hum does not end. It carries on with you."